


Glacial Hearts (Souls Afire)

by mistrstank (dreamingdarkly)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Tony Stark, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bucky Barnes Feels, Curses, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Feels, Gen, General HYDRA Douchebaggery, Happy Ending, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, Knight Bucky, M/M, Magic, POV Bucky Barnes, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sorcerer Tony, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, True Love's Kiss, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly/pseuds/mistrstank
Summary: Alternatively Titled: Bucky Barnes' 5 step approach to breaking a curse.Cursed by an enemy of his father, heir of the kingdom Tony Stark must make a dangerous journey in search of the powerful witch, Wanda. Along the way, he meets Bucky Barnes, who just might prove that his salvation is a lot closer to hand than he realises...A fairytale romance, a grievous wound, a sacrifice made. A tale of love, strong enough to melt a frozen heart...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 130
Collections: 2019 WinterIron_Holiday_Exchange





	Glacial Hearts (Souls Afire)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> So, did anyone see the 1500 word limit? I seem to have lost it somewhere...
> 
> Honestly, this fic was such a ride, and I absolutely adored writing it. I could quite happily have lingered over those missing moments and turned this into a real monster, but I contained myself (sort of).
> 
> I was so excited and nervous to get my giftee, who I have a very deep fondness and respect for; Wren, I hope this is something you'll enjoy. It's not exactly your prompt, but I tried to get as much in there as I could. This plot just ran away from me.
> 
> Finally, a giant thank you to HDDNone, for a super speedy and beautiful job beta'ing this beastie of mine. I can't thank you enough.  
> And that's enough rambles from me! I hope you all enjoy xx

**Glacial Hearts (Souls Afire)**

Prompt: Tony, the Prince/Lord in disguise is lost on his own, but teams up with a fighter called Bucky to get him home again. It seems like Bucky is running from his own demons…(Bonus points if you put in some “Bucky and Tony travelling together”: Sharing what little they have to eat, trying to protect themselves, keeping watch while the other sleeps, keeping a low profile etc).

* * *

  
  


#  One

_ He had beautiful eyes. The kind I could get lost in, and I guess I did. - S.B _

It's a foolish mistake that is his undoing.

Bucky has been cautious to the point of paranoia in his many summers on the run. He never stays in one location for long and never gives his real name. He keeps his face covered in towns, though he tries to avoid going to those at all. 

Now, stumbling through the trees with the excited calls of his pursuers echoing behind him, Bucky curses himself. He'd  _ known  _ the last village was HYDRA occupied, but he'd been desperately low on supplies and foolishly assumed he could either sneak in or handle whatever HYDRA forces were present. Branches pluck at his clothes as he plunges recklessly on and Bucky is pretty sure he hears something tear. The canopy above forms an artificial darkness that makes it difficult to see and more than once Bucky stumbles over uneven ground.

And then the ground disappears entirely.

With a bitten off yell, Bucky tumbles forward to hit the ground painfully on his right side and then the world becomes a blur of colours and pain as he rolls down a steep incline. He snatches at the ground and pulls up handfuls of dirt in a desperate bid to slow his descent. He falls for what seems an eternity, adding to his collection of bruises along the way until he tumbles off a final edge and slams into a clearing with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. 

Bucky lies there, blinking up at the cloudy grey sky above and feels the ache of every bump and scratch. It takes some time before he can push himself into a sitting position, the enchanted prosthetic arm lagging and nearly toppling him back down. A trail of warmth that can only be blood trickles slowly down the side of Bucky’s face and his vision swims alarmingly once he’s upright. 

“Well, that was unlucky,” Bucky hears from somewhere to his left and the voice sends ice sliding down his spine. He doesn’t need clear vision to recognise Brock Rumlow swaggering across the clearing towards him. He’s flanked by four other men, all dressed similarly in dark leathers and armed to the teeth. “Time to come home, Asset.” 

Bucky lurches to his feet and swipes impatiently at the blood on the side of his face. He lost his bow somewhere in the fall, but his daggers come easily to hand as he sinks into a combat stance that is almost reflex at this point.

“Just try it!”

Brock smirks and draws his sword, swings it once and then levels the point in Bucky’s direction. The light gleams along the wicked looking blade. 

“You always did enjoy being...difficult.” He says, conversationally.

“And you still don’t know how to use that pig sticker properly!” Bucky lunges forward before Brock can reply, twisting his body to get inside Brock’s reach. The prosthetic arm is a little sluggish, and he compensates for it almost without thinking. Bucky’s mind goes cold and still, sliding into the mindset of the Winter Soldier. He knows Brock is the biggest threat and so he moves to take him out the fastest. Brock stumbles back - hampered by how close Bucky is - and their blades meet with a ringing cry. They’re well matched, with Bucky injured; at full capacity, Bucky knows this fight would be over in seconds.

“Are you just going to  _ watch _ ?” Brock snarls, and in a mad scramble the HYDRA soldiers leap into the melee. With only daggers, Bucky is hard pressed to defend himself from seemingly every angle. His ears ring unpleasantly and blood keeps sliding into his eyes. He picks up a handful of cuts to add to his growing collection, but he’s holding them off. Bucky slides through Brock’s guard and drives one dagger into his side with a slick sound; he feels a momentary flare of triumph, quickly extinguished. His momentary distraction is just long enough for a sword to slice down his right shoulder and upper arm. Fire races along his nerves and Bucky cries out. One of his daggers drops from suddenly limp fingers and blood races down along the limb. He staggers back from the fight and the HYDRA soldiers follow, circling like hungry wolves.

Bucky scans the surrounding clearing - looking for escape - but there’s so much open ground and he’s both tired and wounded. Brock sinks slowly to his knees, but his ‘companions’ don’t spare him a glance and Bucky finds himself forced backwards.

“The legendary ‘Winter Soldier’,” one taunts, lips tilted up in a cruel smirk. “Not so very legendary right now, ain’t ya?” He lunges forward faster than Bucky can track and rams his fist into his right shoulder. Bucky drops to his knees with a hoarse cry, clutching the wounded limb close. 

Gods save him, he’d rather die here than go back to HYDRA. Bucky clutches his remaining dagger in sweaty fingers, swaying back and forth on his knees. 

There’s a strange, high pitched sound and a bright flash of light that Bucky has to close his eyes against. When he opens them, one of the HYDRA soldiers is across the clearing, slumped down against a tree. The sound repeats twice more in rapid succession and Bucky finds himself kneeling alone, his assailants lying at varying distances away. 

“Their taunting was rather tasteless,.” The voice is accompanied by soft footsteps, and precedes a man stepping past Bucky to lean over one of the HYDRA soldiers. He’s lean and compact, dressed in expensively made, dusty travelling clothes. The man reaches down and turns the soldier’s head to the side. “Ah, HYDRA. Yes, that does explain their poor conduct.” 

“Who are you?” Bucky slowly pushes his way to his feet and makes his stumbling way over to his other dagger. He’s careful not to turn his back on the stranger - just because he attacked HYDRA soldiers doesn’t mean he’s friendly. 

“A reasonable question, I suppose. I am Tony.” 

Daggers reclaimed, Bucky turns back to his apparent rescuer, to find Tony already looking at him. He’s a contrast to look at; handsome, with dark hair just long enough to curl over his ears and sharply defined features. What catches Bucky’s attention is the dispassionate, almost cold dark eyes in a face that bears the markers of a lifetime smiling. 

He looks, Bucky thinks, like a man who’s had all his joy snatched away. 

“Well, thank you, Tony.” 

Tony waves a hand dismissively, and light gleams along a piece of red metal that wraps around his palm. 

“You should let me take a look at that wound. I am no healer, but if you wish to be fit to travel…" 

Bucky nods wearily and moves to sit against the base of a tree; the combination of shade and being off his feet does wonders for his nausea. Tony approaches after a brief hesitation to kneel at Bucky's side. His hands are surprisingly gentle, considering the dispassionate look in his eyes.

"It appears you are lucky," Tony comments after some time. "Any deeper and you might have lost the other arm." 

Bucky snorts indelicately; he has never been  _ lucky  _ in his life.

“What a sight I would have made.” Bucky smiles wryly. Tony blinks at him, an almost befuddled expression briefly taking over his features before it blanks out again.

“Indeed. Not exactly subtle.” In short order Tony has Bucky festooned in bandages, thickly padded against extra bleeding. “I apologise. Normally I could take the edge off the pain. My magic is...largely nonfunctional at this point in time.” Tony pauses, and his head quirks to the side a little. “Actually, perhaps you might be of assistance with that.”

“A sorcerer with no magic and a fighter with two useless arms. This  _ will  _ be a story.” Bucky snorts and shrugs his prosthetic shoulder with a faint grinding sound reminiscent of rusted metal.

“I did not say I had  _ no  _ magic,” Tony says mildly and the metal on his hands glows faintly. He reaches out and slaps a hand against Bucky’s prosthetic arm. Bucky can’t feel the touch, but he can feel the sudden weightlessness as the arm stops dragging uselessly. His hand lifts smoothly, the steel plates sliding over each other in a whisper quiet motion Bucky has never experienced. 

“Consider me corrected. Alright, Tony, how can I aid you?”

“Have you ever heard of the witch, Wanda?” 

#  Two

_ I feel so much, that it is hard for me at times, to feel anything at all - MK Teske _

“So, why Wanda?” Bucky asks that night as they’re forming camp. His right arm aches, though not nearly as bad as he expected. Bucky does what can, but he’s ashamed to note that Tony does a lot of the heavy lifting. He does so without complaint, efficiently rolling out their bedrolls and building a small campfire. In short order, Bucky finds himself presented with a handful of dry rations while Tony starts on dinner.

“I am hoping she can provide some insight to an issue I am having.” Tony doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, his hands deft as he assembles what seems to be a stew in a small iron pot. 

“Your magic problem?” 

“That, and other things,” Tony sighs softly. He carefully pinches what Bucky assumes are herbs between his fingers and sprinkles them into the boiling pot. Almost immediately, a fragrant smell rises into the air that has Bucky’s mouth watering. “I was placed under a curse,” Tony finally speaks again, after a long silence. “The nature of it hinders my magic, so that I had to find another way to use it.” He raises his hand so that the firelight gleams along the red metal wrapped around his palm. It looks almost like a gauntlet, but his fingers are completely free.

Bucky opens his mouth to speak - though he’s not sure if he’s going to ask a question or offer sympathy - and Tony offers a spoonful of the stew, steaming gently in the night air. Taking the hint, Bucky blows gently until the heat is more manageable and takes a tentative mouthful. The flavour is...unusual, but certainly not unpleasant. He nods his approval, thinking forlornly of his own unpalatable dinner of trail rations. He’s surprised when a bowl filled with the same stew is held out towards him.

“I shouldn’t take your food,” Bucky tries, and Tony scoffs immediately.

“Nonsense, it is simply illogical to let a companion starve.”

Bucky slowly takes the bowl and sits back. He is in no danger of starving, and Tony knows this, but if the man is so determined to share his food then Bucky won’t complain. Bucky watches Tony quietly, thinking. Tony is a strange travelling companion; there’s almost no inflection when he speaks and his expression rarely shifts. He appears almost emotionless, and yet he keeps with these small acts of kindness, like sharing food Bucky doesn’t need. It presents a mystery, and Bucky wonders what exactly this curse is. 

“We should set up a watch.” Bucky scrapes the last of his meal from the bowl and then uses a little water from his waterskin to rinse it clean. Tony glances up from his own meal, barely half gone.

“A wise idea, certainly. I can take a long shift, since you are injured and need your rest. I do not require much sleep.”

Bucky tucks his cleaned bowl and spoon into Tony’s pack and then turns to frown in his companion’s direction. “Everyone needs sleep. No use both of us bein’ exhausted. Tired is stupid, and stupid is usually dead.”

Tony shakes his head with a sigh. “You misunderstand me,” he responds, tapping his spoon against his bowl in a nervous seeming gesture. “The curse I mentioned, it makes sleeping...uncomfortable.”

“Alright, I’m going to need more than just vague ‘my curse does this’, if I’m supposed to be helpin’.” Bucky leans forward, ducking down a little until he can make eye contact.

“Fair enough,” Tony relents with another sigh. He’s silent for some time, and Bucky is just beginning to think he’ll need to prod further when Tony begins to speak. “My father was not always a good man, nor a very kind one. He made many enemies. One such felt that, since he had passed, I was a suitable candidate for their vengeance.” Tony reaches beneath his shirt and lifts a necklace into the firelight. If Bucky didn’t know better, he’d say the necklace had a chunk of ice strung onto the simple silver chain. It gleams coldly in the light and as Bucky leans in for a closer look he can see a bright fiery centre to the gem, trapped in the cold blue.

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky murmurs, for it is, even with the feeling of cold he gets from it. Tony smiles bitterly down at the gem and then drops it back beneath his shirt, out of sight.

“It’s my heart, so I suppose I should thank you.” Tony turns to pack his own dishes away, continuing to speak with his back turned. “She wrapped it in magical ice. It never occurs to you - how much you  _ feel _ \- until you cannot. I cannot dream, I cannot see the beauty in a sunrise, and I cannot cast spells.” 

“Gods, Tony. That’s... _ awful. _ ” Bucky reaches out to briefly touch Tony’s shoulder, surprised when the other man leans just slightly into the touch. “So that’s why you don’t want to sleep.”

“It’s just a reminder of what I am missing. I prefer to avoid it as much as possible.” Tony glances over his shoulder with another tiny, sad smile and pushes to his feet. “I will set up watch over there. Rest well.” He strides away without waiting for an answer, and Bucky takes that as a sign the conversation is over.

Still, as he settles into his bedroll that night, Bucky finds himself unsettled. He thinks of how solicitous Tony has been, the way he didn’t hesitate to save Bucky’s life, and he wonders.

#  Three

_ Two damaged people trying to heal each other, is love - R.H _

Three days later and Bucky isn’t any closer to figuring out the mystery that is Tony. They’ve been travelling on foot - since Bucky doesn’t own a horse and Tony didn’t bring one - and Bucky has definitely noticed he’s been slowing Tony down. The other man has yet to complain, but Bucky’s sure he wouldn’t normally be taking as many breaks throughout the day if he were alone. As thankful as Bucky is for the rest - his whole body  _ aches  _ \- he can’t help the feeling of guilt churning in his stomach.

“This looks like a good place to rest,” Tony announces abruptly, stepping off the small deer trail they’ve been following and into a small grove. It’s a beautiful spot, the trees above arching in to create a small pocket of cool, shaded area that smells strongly of wildflowers. “I think your wounds need tending,” Tony continues and kneels down to dig around in his pack.

“I can continue,” Bucky protests, even as he follows obediently. “Surely we’re losing too much time. The legends say Wanda only appears for a single day, right?”

Tony glances up with a smile and for a moment he looks amused, before the expression flattens back out. “That’s true, they do say that. For the most part, that is accurate. Wanda has her own dimension; it only crosses paths with our own every ten years, for a week,” As he speaks, Tony deftly starts unwrapping Bucky’s bandages. “She chooses to cross into our world for one day of that week, but those with the capabilities are welcome to visit on the other days.”

Bucky watches Tony’s hands - the graceful way he moves - and marvels again at his gentleness. He can remember the medics in HYDRA, and their touch had never been so careful. The wound, when it’s revealed, makes Bucky’s nose wrinkle. He can faintly detect the sickly sweet odour of infection. His shoulder looks swollen and the moment the bandages come off it oozes blood sluggishly. 

“Well, that doesn’t look good. And don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding the question, Tony.”

“We will make it,” is all Tony chooses to say. He sorts through his supplies for a moment and then with a quiet ‘aha’ he holds up a small clay pot. He pulls the lid off and Bucky wrinkles his nose at the immediate, pungent odour. Inside is probably a finger’s width of pale blue salve. Tony scoops practically all of it onto his fingers and smears it liberally across the wound surface. Almost immediately a cool tingling sensation prickles at his skin and spreads out across the muscles of his arm. Tony wipes the last of the salve across a bandage before he wraps the wound again, deftly tying off the bandage at the end. 

“That should help with the pain. If we are lucky, the infection has not taken hold too strongly.” Tony smiles briefly and then glances away to repack his supplies. 

“What was the salve? The pain is practically gone,” Bucky shifts his shoulder, shocked to note that it barely twinges. 

“It is made by a gifted healer friend of mine. It heals wounds faster and helps with the pain in the meantime,” Tony shifts his pack back onto his shoulders and moves back onto the trail with Bucky at his heels.

“So...you just used the last of your special, magical salve on me…” Bucky says slowly, frowning at Tony’s back.

“Unfortunately, yes. Hopefully it is enough to stop the infection spreading.” 

“That’s...really not what I meant.” Bucky mutters, but Tony either doesn’t hear or elects to ignore him. Not for the first time, Bucky wonders if Tony realises the curse doesn’t hold him as strongly as he seems to think it does.

#  Four

_ They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered - F. Scott Fitzgerald _

Days later, Bucky wipes at his sweaty forehead with a strip of cloth he’s dampened from his water flask. He feels like he’s burning alive; his arm aches constantly, and lately his fingertips have started to alternate between tingling and going numb. He knows the infection has gotten worse, but Bucky also knows he’s slowing Tony down - unforgivably so. He had hoped his body would burn the infection out, but now as he sways along in Tony’s wake, he doesn’t think that’s likely.

“Tony, I think I need to rest,” Bucky calls, and before he’s finished speaking Tony is already turning towards him. Bucky’s legs pick that moment to turn to liquid and he falls to his knees. Or, he almost does; Tony’s face goes white and he lunges forward, arms going around Bucky’s waist and easing his fall. Bucky slumps forward and Tony holds him easily. The world blurs around him, a nauseating mix of colours that Bucky closes his eyes against. Tony feels blessedly cool against his own heated flesh and Bucky unconsciously curls in closer. One of Tony’s hands smooths gently over his hair, while the other presses against his forehead. 

“You should have said it had gotten this bad,” Tony admonishes gently, and then after a short pause, he curses softly. “I should have noticed.”

Bucky grunts a nonanswer, too relieved to be resting to comment. He knows Tony is going to have to leave him behind if he wants to make it to Wanda in time. He figures he’ll just take a moment to rest, and then he’ll find a village healer. And if not, well, he supposes out here under the trees is a better way to go than back under HYDRA’s thumb. 

“Alright, Bucky, we have to move,” Tony says and his arms tighten around Bucky’s waist. A moment later and he’s climbing to his feet, hauling Bucky up after him.

“ _ Nnno, _ ” Bucky mumbles, swallowing convulsively when the movement makes him feel like he might be sick. “You have to leave me behind.”

“Not happening, Bucky. Move your feet.” Tony all but snarls, and starts moving, with Bucky helpless but to stumble along with him. 

Bucky quickly loses track of time after that, but later he’ll easily be able to rank it as one of the worst experiences of his life. In a haze of fever and pain he stumbles along for what feels like an endless period of time, with Tony’s alternating gentle encouragement and harsh reprimand urging him on. He barely notices when the forest seems to fold away and they stumble down a dirt road towards a village. By the time they make it to the village, Bucky is slung over Tony’s shoulders like a sack of grain. Bucky is clinging onto consciousness through pure stubbornness.

“Have you a healer?” Bucky distantly hears Tony say, though given his current position he can’t see who he’s talking to.

“Aye, Bruce has his hut in the village square, but I’ll warn ye, he don’t much like strangers visitin’.”

Tony starts moving again, leaving Bucky to sway nauseatingly across his shoulders. He blinks heavy eyes, and when he opens them again he’s lying on a bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could have sworn he merely blinked…

“You’re lucky you brought him to me,” A quiet voice is saying to his right, and then an unfamiliar face leans into Bucky’s view. He almost panics, but he can see Tony hovering just behind the man. “He could have lost this arm, too.”

“Go, Tony. I’ll be fine,” Bucky forces out of his dry throat. “You’re going to be late.”

Tony exchanges a glance with the healer, who blushes faintly and shuffles away with a muttered excuse. Tony sits carefully on the edge of the bed and he is smiling in a way Bucky hasn’t seen before; it’s something soft, and unbearably gentle. 

  
“Rest, now. Bruce is going to take care of that wound. You’ll be fine in a few days.” Tony hesitates for a moment, and then reaches out to card his fingers gently through Bucky’s hair. Bucky’s eyes half closed, and he leans into the touch.

“Will I see you again?” Bucky doesn’t mean to ask the question, but it slips out before he can catch it. The idea of never seeing Tony again leaves him strangely...hollow.

“Sooner than you think.” Tony leans forward and drops a gentle kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “Now go to sleep.”

#  Five

_ Life is Unpredictable, _ _   
_ _ It changes with the seasons, _ _   
_ _ Even your coldest winter, _ _   
_ _ Happens for the best of reasons, _ _   
_ _ And though it feels eternal, _ _   
_ _ Like all you’ll ever do is freeze, _ _   
_ _ I promise Spring is coming, _ _   
_ _ And with it, brand new leaves. - E.H _

Awareness trickles in slowly, with what feels like one sense awakening at a time. Bucky notes the slightly scratchy feel of the sheets beneath him, the smell of incense burning somewhere nearby, and the distant sounds of children laughing. Bucky peels open his eyes and has to blink several times before the ceiling comes back into focus. For a moment, he’s confused, until his memories trickle back in and he realises where he is.

“Ah, good. You’re awake,” The healer appears in the doorway, smiling kindly. Bucky’s pretty sure he heard Tony call him Bruce. “That infection had a good hold on your body; you’ve been asleep a week.”

Bucky slowly eases himself into a sitting position; a week explains why his muscles feel limp and weak. Bruce offers him a cup of water and Bucky takes it with a grateful smile. He downs three cups before his throat feels a little less like a desert, with Bruce patiently refilling the cup each time. A week should have been enough time for Tony to get to Wanda, but he doesn’t know how long it would take her to break the curse.

“Is Tony back?”

“Back? Your companion never left,” Bruce responds after a brief, confused pause. He gestures to the front door of the cottage. “He’s outside, entertaining his fans, I believe.”

It feels like there’s a lump of ice in his stomach, cold and heavy.  _ Tony never left.  _ He never went to Wanda. He’d lost his one chance to have his curse broken,  _ because of Bucky.  _ He’ll have to wait another ten years;  _ Gods,  _ why hadn’t he just left?

Bucky scrambles to his feet, barely noticing the way his prosthetic arm is moving better than it has in years. Bruce says nothing, and merely holds Bucky’s breeches out with a patient smile. Bucky hurries into his clothes and then all but runs for the door. 

He crashes through it into bright, warm sunlight and the cacophony of a bustling village. Bucky blinks against the light until his vision clears and finds himself standing in the middle of a hive of activity. There are market stalls around him, children chasing each other through the streets and laughing. The air smells warmly of baked bread and Bucky’s mouth starts watering. He scans the crowd, looking for a familiar thatch of dark hair and a somber expression, but when he finally spots Tony he almost doesn’t recognise him.

He’s wearing a filthy shirt that might have been white, the sleeves torn away to bare sweaty, muscular arms. His hair is a riot of dark curls, and there is a soot stain spread across one cheek. He’s holding a hammer and two nails in one hand, and it looks like he’s paused in the middle of fixing one of the cottage doors. But it’s not the dirt or the admittedly distracting sight of his arms that arrests Bucky.

It’s his  _ smile.  _

Even from this distance, Bucky can see the way Tony’s dark eyes seem to dance, and his smile is big enough to carve grooves in his cheeks. There are at least seven children gathered around his legs, staring up with rapt attention as Tony talks and gestures expansively with his free hand. 

He looks  _ alive.  _

Bucky slowly walks closer, until he can hear what Tony’s saying.

“It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen!” Tony waves his hammer and the children gasp and lean closer. “One man, surrounded by enemies, fighting for his life! They closed in on him, likes wolves on a lone sheep.” Tony’s voice drops and he leans closer to the children. “And like lightning, the man slashes with his daggers!” The kids squeal, and one little girl claps.

Bucky leans against a wall and listens to the story with a small smile. It sounds suspiciously familiar, and the more Tony speaks the more Bucky recognises the story of how they met. 

“He was injured, and alone,” Tony intones and the same little girl from before cries out in dismay. “His remaining enemies closing in. He had nowhere to turn, no way to run…”

“And then a handsome, magical knight stepped from the trees.” Bucky interjects, and all eyes turn in his direction. Tony’s widen and then, fascinatingly, a faint tinge of pink flushes his cheeks. 

“Bucky! You’re up. Bruce thought it might be another day or so.” Tony scrubs a hand through his hair, making the dark strands stand up in further disarray. 

“Good as new,” Bucky smiles, just slightly and holds his arms out from himself to demonstrate. “Can we talk?”

Tony bobs his head in a quick nod and Bucky waits while he gently shoos the children off. It takes several minutes, with them begging for another story and Tony promising to tell them one  _ later.  _ Eventually, they reluctantly disperse and Tony gestures for Bucky to follow. He leads him a short distance through the village to a blacksmith’s forge, the open front allowing the smoke from the forge to drift out into the air. Tony drops the hammer on a nearby bench and then turns around.

“How do you feel?” He asks, reaching out to lightly touch Bucky’s previously injured arm. Bucky catches his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, then holds onto it when Tony doesn’t try to take it back.

“Tony, you didn’t go and see Wanda, did you?” Bucky looks down at their joined hands; he can’t quite bring himself to make eye contact. Guilt tastes bitter on his tongue.

“I, no. I couldn’t ask Bruce to heal you for nothing, and I didn’t have anything to pay with, so...I traded.”

“Traded what?”

“My skills,” Tony says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. He’s smiling slightly, and he squeezes Bucky’s hand. “It was worth it. You were nearly dead.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Bucky drops Tony’s hand to run both of his through his hair, tugging harshly at the strands and ignoring the sting. “Tony, you were supposed to get your curse lifted!  _ I  _ was supposed to help  _ you! _ ”

Tony cocks his head to the side. “Why are you yelling?”

“I’m not!” Bucky shouts, and then deflates with a sigh. “Okay, I am. Is Wanda the only option you had left? You said she was, but you seem...different.”

Tony is shaking his head before Bucky has finished speaking, smiling sadly. “We tried everything back home. My heart remains as frozen as ever,” Tony lifts the necklace up and the light catches on the ice coloured gem. Bucky frowns at it - he could swear it’s  _ smaller.  _

“I don’t think it is, Tony,” Bucky says slowly, feeling his way through the words. He reaches out and takes both of Tony’s hands, leaving the necklace to thump gently against Tony’s sternum. “I think you’ve been breaking the curse on your own. I... _ hope  _ that, well that  _ we  _ have.”

“Bucky, what are you saying?” 

“Tony, I care about you. A lot. I think...I think I might love you, even. And maybe that sounds silly, we’ve only known each other a short time, but curse or not there’s something about you -”

“We can’t.” Tony interrupts, and gently tugs his hands from Bucky’s grasp. “I can’t, I don’t. I  _ can’t  _ love you, Bucky.”

“Tony,” Bucky pleads, helplessly, as Tony takes a slow step back. “I know it’s a lot, but -”

“You don’t understand!” Tony snaps, and suddenly he’s pushing into Bucky’s space, leaning up until they’re almost nose to nose. “I.  _ Can’t.  _ Love you.” He enunciates each word, punctuating it with a firm poke to the middle of Bucky’s chest. “Or did you somehow  _ forget  _ I’m cursed?” 

“Of course I didn’t forget, but Tony I think you’ve been breaking the curse!”

“How would you know?” Tony shouts and seemingly without his notice he’s curled one hand into the fabric of Bucky’s shirt. “You don’t know what it’s like, to be so cold!”

“Because I  _ see you _ , Tony!” Bucky’s voice, in contrast, is almost a whisper. He scoops the necklace up and with a firm tug breaks it away from Tony’s neck. The gem is cool in his hand, but Bucky doesn’t look away from Tony’s eyes. “I see you,” He repeats softly, into the inch of space between them. “And you’re the furthest thing from cold I’ve ever seen.”

There’s a flash of blue light between them, and for a second Bucky’s hand  _ aches.  _ They jump apart almost instinctively, and then together look down at Bucky’s hand. There’s a simple silver chain there, resting on a pile of blue dust. Even as they watch, a gentle breeze blows and takes the dust with it, leaving Bucky with just the chain.

“Tony, your heart…” Bucky whispers, horrified.

“It’s okay,” Tony says, gently folding Bucky’s fingers around the silver chain. “It was yours anyway.” And then he leans up and gently touches his lips to Bucky’s. 

#  Six

_ In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. _ _   
_ _ In all the world, there is no love for you like mine. - M. Angelou _

“So in all that time traveling, you couldn’t find time to mention you were heir to the throne?” Bucky teases gently and Tony grins up at him, batting his eyelashes ridiculously.

“I forgot?” He tries, leaning his chin against Bucky’s chest and staring up at him in a way Tony knows Bucky finds irresistible.

“You’re incorrigible,” Bucky whispers, but leans down to give Tony the kiss he’s asking for.

“Hey now, none of that, none of that!” Pepper appears from seemingly nowhere, snapping a white handkerchief in their faces and shooing them apart. “Save it for the wedding!” She flutters around them, straightening clothes and hair with a businesslike air Bucky has come to love. Tony is a warm weight at his side, the air around him buzzing with his magic, now fully functioning again and leaving the faint taste of ozone in the air.

  
Finally satisfied, Pepper steps back and beams at them, her eyes overbright with the threat of tears.

“You both look wonderful,” She whispers, and leans in to brush a brief kiss over both their cheeks.

Pepper spins away in a swirl of silk, though not before Bucky hears a carefully hidden sniffle and pushes open the gilded door to the throne room, packed wall to wall with smiling faces. Two thrones, one silver and one red, both etched in gold stand at the far end of the hall. Rhodey stands on the steps, flanked by two young boys, carefully balancing plush cushions with an almost identical crown on each. Tony steps forward first and in a dramatic gesture that makes Bucky smile, he throws his hands out.

Runes glow along his arms, sparking gold and spreading their light through to the rest of the hall. Metal vines appear on the wars, glinting silver in the light and from impossibly delicate stems spring beautifully detailed golden and red flowers of the same metal. Light glows in the centre of each little flower, the pale blue of the ice gem that had encased Tony’s heart for so long; a reminder of the curse which brought them together.

“Shall we?” Tony turns to smile at Bucky, and holds his hand out. His eyes are bright and mischievous and looking at him, Bucky knows his life will never be boring again.

Bucky takes his hand, and steps forward into his new life.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Comments? Leave 'em below!


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